Making Your Own Custom-Tinted Glazing Putty

I recently did an antique window restoration job at work (we're primarily an upholstery shop, but we also do refinishing and occasionally antiques restorations and repairs). Having worked on these antique windows made me want to experiment with mixing my own putty for antique clocks. I've wanted to try making glazing putty for a few years, but I never got around to it until now.

Antique window restoration work:







I generally prefer to leave putty out of a clock once the putty has failed, in favour of installing wooden strips. I believe strips are easier to remove and replace should the glass break again in the future. There are cases, however, where putty is the best option, and gives the best look. Mainly these will be on wooden works clocks from the early 1800s and on clocks up to around 1840.

One of the pitfalls of using modern putty is that the only commonly available glazing putty is either Dap33, or Sarco, which are both plain white. These can be used as-is, and then surface-painted to look old, but the original putty in early American clocks was originally a sort of brick colour throughout (ranging from light brown to a peach or red tone). The goal of trying homemade putty was to see if I could replicate the look of historic putty.

The basic recipe for traditional glazing putty is dead simple. There are only two ingredients: whiting (chalk/limestone dust), and linseed oil.

The exact mixing proportions in the recipes I found are not generally given, because it depends on the amount of putty you want to mix, and the thickness/viscosity of your linseed oil. There is also no specific linseed oil type specified. Double boiled will dry faster, and regular boiled linseed oil will dry more slowly. You could also use refined artist's linseed oil, but that would be needlessly expensive, with little payoff. Some recipes call for a mixture of regular and double boiled linseed oil. It's entirely up to you. Generally, the putty tends to take a long time to dry, so double boiled linseed is is recommended.

For my putty recipe (and keeping in mind that this was mostly an experiment), I used plaster of Paris instead of whiting. Whiting is one of those old fashioned materials that seems to be increasingly difficult to find these days. I've looked for several years and haven't come across any. I could buy some online, but with the price of shipping, it's just too expensive. Plaster of Paris is mainly gypsum dust (calcium sulfate). It is not the same as whiting (which is calcium carbonate), but both are stone dust, and I thought that for my purposes it would work about the same (which it did).



To colour the putty, I decided to use some powdered tempera paints. I came across a large box of these paints at a yard sale many years ago and I had never found a use for them until now. The main colours that I used were red, black, and brown. I also had yellow, and I did use a bit of green at one point to tone down the red. If you can't find tempera paints, you could also try coloured chalk or dry pastels (ground to a fine powder). I believe the putty could also be tinted with artist's oil paints (which are normally made from pigments in a linseed oil base), or with certain types of universal tints, but I have not tried these.



To mix the putty, I recommend using a small dish. Preferably a dish made of glass, ceramic, or metal. I used a small ceramic bowl. The easiest way to mix the putty is to start with a wet mix, and then gradually add more whiting or plaster until you form a stiff dough. I used about 5% tempera paint powders, and roughly 10-20% oil to powder ratio (this is just a very rough estimation). You want to begin mixing your putty with a small spoon or a popsicle stick, and then knead it in your hands towards the end. Knead it very thoroughly.





I was able to mix 3 different colours to do three different clock doors (matching the existing putty colours). I reglazed the dial-glass doors on a C. & L. C. Ives triple decker, and on an E. W. Adams wooden works clock case. I also made patch repairs to missing sections of putty on the lower door of the C. & L. C. Ives clock.

Lower tablet glass from C. & L. C. Ives triple decker clock ca. 1835. The top and left sides were a bit orangy-red while the bottom and right sides were dark brown. Photographed before drying:



Half these areas are original putty, with missing sections filled-in. It's nearly impossible to re-form a perfectly smooth line.



Incorrect modern glass was replaced with wavy glasses in these two dial glass frames from a C. & L. C. Ives, and an E. W. Adams wooden works. The colours were matched to the original putty. One dark brown, and one brownish-red:









The finished results far surpassed my expectations, but there are several additional notes I wanted to mention about the whole process. The first I will mention is the application. If you have worked with commercially prepared glazing putty, you'll see pretty quickly that the home made putty has a completely different texture. Even if you can mix it pretty thick (which I recommend - about the consistency of modeling clay), it will smooth itself into the frame much more smoothly than commercial putty (a bit like icing) and it will appear more glossy at first.

One VERY important thing to consider with this putty is the drying time. You MUST wait for the putty to surface-dry before you attempt to clean any excess putty or smudges on the glass. The fresh putty is extremely soft and easily damaged (like icing), and if you happen to touch the putty when it's only partially dry, it will form a soft oily spot, and it will start to puddle in that weak spot. If this happens, do not attempt to touch the putty any further, and simply set the panel in such a way that the wet spot can lay horizontally to continue drying. The putty in my sample glasses took 2 weeks to dry enough that I could clean the glasses. It's worth the time to just wait and leave the putty to dry. Yes it's slow, and yes it's tempting to want to rush the process, but trying to force the putty to dry more quickly could potentially cause cracking or other problems. A heat gun will also not help dry the putty, because it's the tool that's used to soften and remove old putty. Heat has the effect of further softening dried putty.

You will want to keep in mind that the colour of the wet (freshly mixed) putty will not be exactly the same as when it's dry. It will lighten by one or two shades as it dries. The change is not extremely drastic, but you do want to mix your putty just a bit darker than the final colour you want to match. You also want to start with a bit less pigment than you might think (you can always add more).

The last note I'll share is that once the putty is dry, it can be carefully and lightly sanded (if you have small bumps or screw-ups), and it can also be painted or stained if you need parts of it (or all of it) darkened additionally. I used a glass scraper and a paper towel with denatured alcohol to clean the glass and the extra putty bits (after the two weeks).

Lastly, here are a few pros and cons to making your own custom glazing putty:

Pros:
- Historically accurate
- Inexpensive
- Easy to customize (colour match)
- Beautiful
- Coloured throughout
- All natural and traditional materials
- Looks more professional

Cons:
- Messy
- Slow drying and curing time (2 weeks minimum)
- Tricky to apply smoothly (I used the back edge of a 1" chisel, and there's a bit of a learning curve)
- Excess putty can't easily be stored once it's mixed (discard or find a very tightly sealed plastic container)
- Oily linseed oil rags pose a fire hazard*

* Oily linseed oil rags are a serious fire hazard because linseed oil can heat-up and spontaneously combust as it dries (you can see videos of this happening if you don't believe it), especially if the rags are clumped up. To dispose of the rags, it is suggested to keep them in a container filled with water, OR to lay them flat on a fireproof surface (cement floor/driveway) to fully dry (2 weeks). Alternatively, you can burn them in a fireplace or fire pit.

Rosewood Seth Thomas (Thomaston) Ogee Clock - Part 2

Apparently I've forgotten all about this series (there will be at least 3, maybe 4 parts to this clock restoration), so here is an update on this clock (which is currently finished and running quite nicely).

The previous part 1 is here:
http://jcclocks.blogspot.ca/2016/02/rosewood-seth-thomas-thomaston-ogee.html

The only part of this clock that I had posted about so far was the restoration of the movement. This is a somewhat in-between to late model Seth Thomas ogee. It has a Thomaston label, but a Plymouth Hollow movement. I would guess that it's as late as the 1870s. This would mean that it would have a decal style glass (fairly detailed/printed). Probably flowers or a Victorian style scene. However, I wanted to install a somewhat earlier stenciled tablet. They are nicer to look at, and they look more convincing that buying a reproduction tablet from a supplier.

For this tablet I dug into my Fenn Stencil books and picked out a design that I've seen used on Seth Thomas clocks. I've seen this pattern on column and cornice clocks. It is also similar in style to a few other patterns of the period. The nice part of this specific pattern is that I had photos of a popular colour scheme for it which looked quite nice. Largely dusty grey and red.



A similar tablet in black and gold:



Two ogee clocks with the blue/gold/black theme:



This is more or less the exact tablet I wanted to copy (as far as colours go):



Different pattern, same colours:



I cut all my stencils from chemical-proof plastic. Anything that won't melt or dissolve in lacquer thinner. I have used thin plastic file folders as well as Mylar for this. This was actually a stencil that I had already cut a few years ago. Initially the size of the pattern was a bit smaller than I wanted, but I assumed it would look alright. I went ahead and stenciled the glass with bronze powders using my usual method (see Mirror Clock Project).



The finished glass didn't look TOO BAD, but I hated how the blue-grey turned out. It was far too blue, and too bright.



I decided to scrap it and restart. I took the glass out, stripped all the paint off, and I decided to enlarge the pattern also. These patterns are incredibly tedious and difficult to cut, so on something like this I actually only cut HALF the pattern, and I stencil it in 2 parts. All tiny dots are painted in freehand.



Stripping off all my hard work:



Here's the new stencil before cleanup. You can see some of the thin streaks of varnish across the glass. The arrows point to all the goof areas that need to be cleaned up. I use a toothpick to just scrub the glass clean in all these spots and to clean up any rough lines.



Before cleaning up (note centre of flower):



New bouquet stencil. You can probably see where a lot of the dots are missing (centre of flowers and ends of stems etc).



Bouquet and red border done. At this point I really didn't want to mess up the grey so I did over a dozen colour samples.



Here's the finished tablet. The gold pattern sort of disappears depending on the viewing angle, but it turned out beautifully and I'm very happy with it.

John Birge & Co. 1848 Column & Cornice Clock - Before Photos

I've already posted the movement restoration from this clock, but lately I've been working on the restoration of the case, which has been on and off for the past year or so. At the current moment I have all of the case completely restored except for the crown moulding, which is always the most complicated part of the case to work on.

Since I'm so close to finishing the restoration on this clock, I want to take the time to post the "before photos" since I haven't done it yet, despite having owned the clock for well over a year (almost 2).

A quick warning: This post will be photo-heavy.

The most nerve wracking part of purchasing a clock like this one (very old, fragile/falling apart, and with lots of easily breakable original painted glasses) is getting it shipped to you. I've dealt with a good number of sellers on eBay, and I've learned that you just don't know how the seller will pack the clock. Even in cases where I made specific requests, often they will just do whatever they want. I've had cases where the clock had the glass protected with a masking tape X, plus a cardboard on each side, 10 layers of bubble wrap, and then double boxed, and on the extreme opposite, I've actually had one ogee clock that was mailed in a completely empty cardboard box. No wadded newspaper, no bubble wrap, no packing peanuts, NOTHING. It somehow survived the trip, but I just could NOT believe it. It's been so long that I'm no longer 100% sure which clock it was, but I'm fairly sure it was the largely empty (but rare) Charles Wilbur clock, which had no dial, no tablet, and an already cracked dial glass. Pictures and info here, if you're curious: http://www.angelfire.com/me5/clockman/charleswilbur.html

In any case, with this particular clock, most of the value for me was in the original tablets, so I was very nervous about what condition the clock would arrive in. Clocks from this period with both original tablets still intact are starting to be harder and harder to find. One thing that doesn't help matters is that a lot of these larger boxes get kicked around (or crushed) more than smaller parcels during shipping. I also had a previous disaster with the purchase of my first Birge & Fuller Column & Cornice clock (which is a whole other nightmare story of its own that I will save for another time). That clock arrived smashed to pieces, and took me a few years to restore.

Let's just say that when the clock arrived, I was already a bit nervous seeing that the box was slightly crushed...





Luckily for me, the Postal Gods were smiling down upon me that week, and the clock arrived safely in one piece.





I was a bit surprised that the clock did not arrive in slightly worse condition, because there really wasn't a ton of packing to protect it. One or two layers of thin bubble wrap, and a few scrunched-up layers of thin newspaper.

Now here are some of the better photos. I've mentioned it before, but it's worth briefly mentioning again: I've been having problems over the past year with my digital camera (difficulty focusing), and I will need a new one soon. Most of these photos turned out nicely, but several turned out blurry, and I had to sharpen the crap out of them in Photoshop.

One of the first problems you'll note with the case is that the columns are insanely crooked. They also appear to have been glued this way for a long time.



This case has some particularly nice cuts of mahogany veneer.





This centre tablet is truly magnificent. It is painted entirely freehand, and I have not seen another similar one on any other Birge clock of the period (and I've seen close to 100). There are a few scratches to the paint, and a tiny bit of lifting in the centre of a few flowers, but aside from that, the tablet has survived in extremely good condition.



I was lucky enough to secure the purchase of the original dial with the clock. If you will recall from the 2014 post regarding this clock (here), I purchased it from a rather unscrupulous seller who prefers to make money from these fine clocks by parting them out into multiple separate auctions. The dial was not marked as being the dial for this clock, but rather just as a "wooden works dial". I knew from past research what Birge dials looked like (and what to look for), and I was 95% sure that this was the dial that went with this clock. Clues for me were the size, the dotted minutes, the style of the numerals, and the circular centre opening. The most important detail, however, is the painted corner spandrels. Birge & Fuller had some of the nicest and most finely detailed floral corners, when compared with similar dials of the same period. If I were to be a bit more specific, I'd say that the flowers were usually composed of many more brush strokes/petals and with more detailed leaves than on other dials. The flowers on this specific dial, however, were a bit plainer than I am used to seeing, and they almost had an early "Seth Thomas" style to them (if you've looked closely at a lot of dials you might see what I mean by this). The quality of the dials was the best in the earliest examples (early 1840s) and gradually became plainer and simpler towards the 1850s. In the end I was correct, and the dial is unmistakably original to this clock. I will try to find a salvaged grommet to replace the missing one (none of the new ones offered match the shape or the width).





For comparison (and education), I've assembled this collage of early Birge dials (wooden dials prior to Birge & Peck). You'll note that the last John Birge dial is an exact match, except for the colour difference (light blue as opposed to pink on mine). Another interesting thing to note from this collage is that only ONE dial has the original hands. It is the third dial. All the others are incorrect replacements. The first dial on the list is from my 1845-47 Birge & Fuller Column & Cornice clock. You may also note that the first 4 dials, as well as the 6th one have identical leaf patterns, with only a difference in the style of the flowers. Some dials also feature single rings, or double rings.



Continuing with the case photos, you can see that the crown has been carved and sanded down in some corners during previous "restorations". This will be difficult to repair.





There's a better photo of this detail farther down. Both columns should be touching the inside corners.





The bottom tablet is equally beautiful, but it has a bit more paint loss than the centre tablet. This tablet is a combination of stenciled and freehand decorations. The stenciled portion of the design has a segmented circle, pointed triangles, and two toothed inner circles at the centre (done in silver bronzing powder). The design is then filled-in with shaded paints in blue, cream, and beige. The whole pattern is then decorated with a small freehand lace border, and corner florets. A lot of the backing "frosted" paint is missing, and there are several small scratches overall, but the tablet is in great shape.



This section of the crown moulding was NOT pictured in the listing photos (big surprise).





Another unfortunate bit of damage that wasn't visible in the listing were two broken chunks to the two corners of the columns. The top board is also split in several places.







Evidence of prior repairs to the crown include several wire nails (everywhere), and all sorts of putty filler (including over the screw holes).



Replaced (poorly fitted and poorly shaped) glue block.



One of several inscriptions. This reads: "Cleaned by R. S. Field". It originally took me some effort to decipher because the C and l almost form one fancy letter "C". I originally saw this as "Camd".



Another inscription. This one reads: "E. Erskine, Eldon Iowa, June 1 88" More info on this later.





One of the small drawbacks to this clock is that the label is only partial. Luckily "John Birge & Co" is still clearly visible. What's missing, however, is the Elihu Geer printer's name and address at the very bottom. Elihu Geer was the printer for the Birge labels, but his address on State Street (Hartford CT) changed almost annually, and the address would have been nice to see for research purposes.





I'm not sure what this mark is from, but I wasn't able to remove it with gentle cleaning. It may be a candle burn.



The movement was in terrible condition. It is a Joseph Ives "Roller Pinion" 8 day weight driven movement. All of these Ives movements feature rolling pinions in all the lantern pinions. These usually show nearly no wear after nearly 200 years of use. The wheels also have unusually shaped squared teeth. The "plates" are made up from strips (or straps) of brass which are riveted together. Back then brass was still quite expensive, and this was an easy way to build plates. Clockmakers know these as "strap brass movements". You can see the complete rehabilitation and restoration of the movement in my previous post here: http://jcclocks.blogspot.ca/2016/01/john-birge-co-movement-restoration.html



The gong was completely mangled. It took a lot of effort to straighten it out again (as much as possible). It doesn't look all that bad in this photo, but it is warped up, down, back up again, and also kinked in several places.



Lovely punch marks around the pivot holes (not repairable), and globs of solder everywhere.









The bottoms on almost all these early clocks tend to be in poor (chipped) shape. This one is no exception.



The end-grain veneers are especially prone to damage (because of the weaker glue bond). There are diagonal cracks through the base, and 2 or 3 cracks in the case side. Also note the missing chunk of wood at the back corner.





Proof that not all of these early clocks had perfect and clear grain/veneer. This clock has a smallish knot on the left side.